Reflecting on Martin’s dream fifty years later

A half a century ago
the White House residents
observed a black man mount a make-shift stage.
And a quarter of a million
braved that August afternoon
to find themselves typeset on history’s page.

As Lincoln’s marble eyes looked on,
that preacher voiced a dream
that cast a vision few (at first) could see.
His focus was on equal rights,
on color blindness, too.
He called for inter-racial unity.

This prophet quoted Scripture
with emotional resolve
as he exorcized the demons of his day.
A King, clothed like a cleric,
without scepter, crown or throne,
gave a speech that blew the masses clean away.

And now fifty long years later
that short speech can still be heard
in the consciousness of we who share his dream.
It’s a dream that’s still in process
as we pray “Thy Kingdom come”
and resist the racists’ manifested schemes.

* On August 28, 1963 (three months before President Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas) The Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his “I Have a Dream” speech to a crowd of some 250,000 people on the steps on the Lincoln Memorial.

Recalling Katrina eight years later

Eight years ago Katrina raged!
In history’s book she claimed a page!
Her temper tantrum terrorized
that city by the Gulf.

Old Man River’s mouth was sore.
It bled for half a year (or more).
The hemorrhaging of New Orleans
resisted tourniquets.

As thousands fled from flooded homes,
they camped out in the Super Dome.
Deprived of worth and dignity,
they grieved for what they’d lost.

But the Big Easy refused to die.
When life got hard and grownups cried,
their will to rise above the storm
was music to our ears!

Yes, all that jazz can still be heard.
It drowns out memories time has blurred
and if you listen carefully
you may hear flutists play.

They’ve gathered down in New Orleans
in hot pursuit of lifelong dreams
and if that “Cajun will” rubs off
who knows how far they’ll go?

* As the nation prepares to recall the devastation caused by Katrina eight years ago, the National Flute Convention is taking place in New Orleans. The poet’s daughter is performing there this weekend.